Letter from the Grave
by Mosshh
Summary: "Six months. They had passed so quickly. It seemed like just last week that Quinn had hugged Santana for the last time before she boarded the plane to Afghanistan the following day. Now Quinn found herself rummaging through her wardrobe hunting for the most appropriate outfit for the occasion."


**Happy Easter!**

**Just an Easter gift from me to you! I really love this story, it's nothing like anything I've written before so I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Any mistakes I apologise for in advance...  
**

**Unfortunately just a one-shot, but enjoy it regardless! **

**Thanks!**

**Letter from the Grave**

Six months. They had passed so quickly. It seemed like just last week that Quinn had hugged Santana for the last time before she boarded the plane to Afghanistan the following day. Now Quinn found herself rummaging through her wardrobe hunting for the most appropriate outfit for the occasion.

* * *

Dresses covered Quinn's bed. Socks coated the lampshade and the floor couldn't even be seen through the mass of jeans, t-shirts and blouses. She sighed with her hands on her hips as she frowned at the chaos that was now her room. Slightly ashamed by the mess that she had become on waking up remembering that today was _the day,_ she slowly made her way through the , picking up one item of clothing at a time.

Excitement had filled Quinn the moment that Santana had left. The inevitable homecoming that would happen in six months time. Planning for a surprise 'welcome home' party had begun immediately. Wiping the tears from her eyes she tore her phone from her pocket and began dialling everyone from the Glee Club. Within mere minutes, before Quinn had even left The Army Base in which Santana would live until the flight out the following morning, everyone had rearranged their upcoming schedules to make sure that June 16th was a free day. Santana's day.

Balloon's were accumulated, food was prepared, cakes had been baked and a karaoke machine was hired. Rachel's basement was the venue for the event and nobody could count down the day's quick enough. The role of picking Santana up from the airport was of course assigned to Quinn, with no objections from anyone else.

Quinn looked at her watch. Noon. Two hours and the party would be underway. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Twenty was the age she now graced with her beautiful long blonde hair, her piercing hazel swirls of eyes and smooth pale skin like that of a cherub. She forced as smile.

"Happy," Quinn mumbled to no one, "You need to be happy."

Twenty minutes passed and Quinn's bedroom was tidy once more. The socks were in drawers; the t-shirts and jeans were folded neatly and positioned in a pile at the foot of her bed, whilst the blouses were hung with care on hangers and placed back in her wardrobe. The dresses remained strewn over the bed. Blues, purples, reds, yellows and green's leapt out in waves of colour at Quinn yet none of them felt quite right.

Eventually, after frequent changes, Quinn decided on a baby blue summer dress that hung loosely on her shoulders and fell just above her knee's. The sleeves were short and barely covered her shoulders so she stuck one hand back in her wardrobe and rooted around for a matching cardigan. White, with a criss-cross pattern stretching across her chest and continuing around to her back.

Quinn stumbled slowly down the stairs in no rush of any kind. She walked lazily past the patio doors which were wide open letting in a breath of fresh morning air. In all the time that had passed Quinn hadn't felt as if she'd moved anywhere. She thought she'd fallen asleep on her bed and was going to wake staring at the ceiling. Instead what broke her from her trance was the large red circle on the calendar. June 16th. Red arrows pointed to the many surrounding circles.

She smiled. This time it was real.

Quinn fumbled with the keys to her door before locking it. And then unlocking it. She'd forgotten something. Something there was no point leaving without. It would be a bit pointless turning up without Santana now wouldn't it, Quinn mentally scolded herself. Walking back inside she made her way to the kitchen table where only a letter lay. She hesitated for a moment before picking it up, kissing it and then pocketing it in the side of her cardigan.

* * *

On reaching the Berry household Quinn could already tell that the afternoon was going to be a memorable one. Balloon's hung from every available surface of Rachel's house. Every car that had already parked had several attached to each wing mirror. Crates of beer were stacked unevenly just outside the porch and an enormous banner sporting the words 'Welcome Home Auntie Snix' stretched from one side of the house to the other.

The front door opened and several people came running out. Blaine was first pulling Kurt by his hand. Grin's covered both their faces. They waved at Quinn completely oblivious. Finn followed Blaine and Kurt chasing after them with a water pistol. The screams and shouts could probably be heard from three streets away but nobody seemed to mind. The last person to come through the door was Rachel herself, the host.

Several minutes passed. Other than Blaine and Kurt the rest of the people that had poured from the door seemed ignorant to the fact that Quinn was sitting alone in her car. She didn't mind though. She liked the quiet. It had grown on her the last few days. The thoughts that plagued her mind she no longer minded and the aching hole in her heart had been healed. Well, almost. Just one last thing to do and restoration would be complete. Quinn felt for the letter in her pocket. Her heart beat a little faster; it was a cage of butterflies trying to escape confinement.

Quinn took a deep breath. Everything was under control.

* * *

A smile plastered across her face and she took the first daunting steps down towards the basement. For a moment she understood Santana's words in her last letter, _"It was weird taking the first few steps…I was surrounded by a completely different world." _Quinn felt surrounded by a completely different world, a world void of something. As if something was missing yet it need not be. It was the first time Quinn fully comprehended the idea that life was more than definitely unfair. It gave and took unequally. Giving what we don't need and taking the things that we do.

When an echoing sound struck Quinn's ears she knew she'd hit the bottom. The music seemed distant and distorted. Everybody moved slowly as if full of lethargy. Rachel saw Quinn's face and felt uneasy. She turned the volume of the music down.

Everyone cheered and whatever they were holding into the air and started chanting, "Snix, Snix, Snix, Snix."

Quinn laughed. She couldn't help it. It was natural. She was glad.

Rachel shushed everyone with a piercing look as if to say, _carry on, I dare you._ She turned her gaze back to Quinn. "Come on then, where is she? Is she getting changed?" she asked excitedly.

Quinn's face fell, but only for a second, they then quickly curled to form a smile. "She never really left us, did she?" Quinn half asked to everyone.

Cheers filled the room again.

"Well no," Rachel answered slightly wary, "but you know what I mean though," she smiled, "in person," Rachel finished.

Quinn's lips curled even more than before. She nodded. "I know what you mean."

"So where is she?" Kurt called out looking over Quinn's shoulder as if she was hiding.

"I bet she's upstairs," Puck replied, "I'll carry her down," he said as he made a leap towards the stairs.

Quinn put her arm out to stop him. He looked confused. They all did.

"What's going on?" Mercedes asked concerned.

Kurt felt for Blaine's hand and squeezed it tight. Puck took several wary steps backwards. Tina's mouth fell open.

"Santana couldn't make it, she isn't here," Quinn deadpanned trying to keep a smile on her face.

Quinn watched everybody's hearts and jaws hit the floor. They turned to one another asking why as if the other would know the answer.

Rachel was the first to speak, "Wha, what? You have got to be kidding me right. I mean I went to all this effort and…"

She was cut off by Finn and Quinn exchanging a quizzical look. When Quinn nodded Finn's face fell. A pale glow replaced his usually vibrant complexion. He pulled Rachel towards him and held her tight. She understood. She didn't try to speak again.

"Where is she then?" Puck asked.

"Yeah, we've been planning this for months, I can't believe she's going to miss it," Blaine said sadly.

"We can save it," Tina chimed in, "For when she can make it, for next time."

A mumble of agreement filled the silence.

Quinn looked at the floor for a couple of seconds before looking up again. "There won't be a next time Tina," she paused, "Santana isn't coming back."

Rage filled several Glee members. "That's ridiculous," Kurt snapped, "and a horrible thing to say. Of course she is going to come back. She has so much to come back to!" he all but yelled.

"Exactly," Puck added moving closer to Brittany and pulling her into a one armed hug. "She's got her family, and Brittany and all of us. She has a life here too you know!"

Arguments and profanities were flung at Quinn like a buoy is out to sea.

Finn stepped in, "Hey, hey!" he raised his voice to get everyone's attention, "whatever is going on isn't Quinn's fault okay. If Santana chose not to come back or to never come back that was _her_ decision, not Quinn's."

Silence.

"So what's Quinn hiding?" Artie asked his arms crossed.

"I don't think Quinn is hiding anything Artie," Brittany chipped in.

"She must be. She must know why Santana isn't here! Why she never wants to come back!?" he shouted in frustration. "Sorry," he mumbled, "It's just we've all been so looking forward to this."

"Haven't we all," Mike quipped.

* * *

Quinn sat in the circle that had formed from the basement's occupants. The party atmosphere had long gone; it was as if it had never been there in the first place. Instead it had been replaced by a void. Not just of the lack of Santana's presence, but the lack of an explanation and a reason why.

"She _can't_ come back?" Tina asked hesitantly, "What do you mean by _can't_?" she finished slowly somewhat afraid of the answer.

Quinn inhaled deeply and fumbled for the letter in her pocket. "Just listen, it'll help. It'll explain."

She opened her mouth to talk again but Blaine cut across her quickly. He gave an apologetic look. "How long have you known?" he asked his eyes glazed with tears.

"Three days," Quinn confessed.

Blaine sniffed, "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Everyone in the basement was now looking at Blaine. Confusion etched on most of their faces. Only on three had realisation struck.

"How long have you known what?" Puck asked through gritted teeth, his frustration levels rising, "what is there to be sorry for?"

"Just listen," Finn said calmly, "Let Quinn talk."

Quinn unfolded the letter. She was nervous. Her hands shook slightly. It was only the second time she'd ever read it. The first time was on receiving it. She had been excited. Santana and she had exchanged a few letters in the first few months of her tour in Afghanistan, but as Santana moved from base to base, keeping track of new addresses was hard thus the letters become scarcer. So after hearing nothing for a month and a half Quinn was beside herself with happiness and excitement on _finally _hearing that Santana was okay. Only, she wasn't.

"_Dear Quinn," _Quinn started.

At first her voice was shaky but the further along she read the more confident became. The words were familiar to her tongue. They rolled over it perfectly. They were the perfect words.

"_It was weird taking the first few steps, first onto and then off of the plane. I was surrounded by a completely different world. All that training and hard work finally having a purpose and making me, me._"

Quinn paused and looked up. Some still looked confused whilst others had been splashed with a wave of sad realisation.

"Go on," Finn encouraged squeezing her thigh and hugging Rachel tighter.

"_I was proud to sit with each and every soul. All of us held our breath not daring to talk, as if the air around us would shatter. We held onto the silence like a lifeline._"

Quinn's voice was bold and confident. It almost felt as if it was too loud for the small space in which she was talking. But then again, with the veil of emptiness hanging over the Glee club even whispering would have been too loud.

"_Every time I'm out on patrol I think of you all back home. The smells, the sounds, the laughter. It seems a long way away right now. But it's never been so crisp and clear_."

Kurt interrupted with a sob. "Sorry," he barely breathed, "it's just…I can hear her voice. As you speak I can picture her, here, with us."

"Where she should be," Blaine spoke into Kurt's hair before kissing him lightly.

Quinn half smiled. It was true. Her voice could be heard. It echoed and reverberated off of the walls. She was here. She was with them.

Quinn repeated the last line again. "_But it's never been so crisp and clear_," she hesitated, "_It's perfect_."

Her vision began to blur. Tears pooled together to form one, a lake of hope.

"_I can picture everything as clear as day and if I listen carefully I can hear the Glee Club singing Journey. Our anthem of sorts_."

If smiles could be heard that was what the basement sounded like after Quinn spoke aloud those lines. A couple of moments passed in silence before a humming intruded it. It was Rachel. The tune was familiar and then suddenly Quinn understood. Within a few seconds the whole Glee Club were humming the same tune. Their tune. Maybe it was in hope to remember Santana, maybe it was to Santana's memory or maybe it was just to feel a sense of togetherness again. Not sitting alone on the outside looking in.

"_This is my life. My Journey. Because life _is_ a journey for each and every one of us. We all take different paths but ultimately the destination is always the same...death. That's why we have to make it count, because we only have one shot_."

Many of the glee members were shaking in the arms of another. Kurt was sobbing into Blaine's shoulder making, on a happier day, cute snuffling noises, but today it just sounded like a man crying. Lost and alone.

Since Quinn had announced having a letter Puck hadn't let go of Brittany. They weren't an item. They weren't anything. They were simply two friends in need of comfort, who had only each other to turn to. Artie sat in his chair ashen faced. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes buts that's as far as they ever got. Being in a wheelchair made him weak enough, he didn't want people to think he was could possibly be weaker than that.

Tina and Mike held hands despite their differences. It's sad that only a death can make people truly realise what they actually have. It makes them realise that they should hold on and never let go. That's what Quinn wishes she had done. She should have been firmed. She didn't want Santana to go. But at the same time, Quinn had wanted her to be happy and she couldn't stand in the way of that. Nobody had blamed her. Not personally. Not yet. But she knew people were thinking of it. She knew they thought she should have tried harder.

"_Tell the Glee Club that I love them, and my parents of course…_"

Quinn opened her mouth to continue but was interrupted by Mercedes, "Oh my god," she cried, "do her parents know?"

Quinn stared at Mercedes and took in her appearance. Tear stained cheeks and make-up sprawled everywhere as if a child had been given the job of doing her mascara. Why was everyone so sad? Of course she was sad, but today was supposed to be a celebration. A celebration of Santana's life. How did nobody understand?

She continued to stare blankly at Mercedes before nodding.

"_I love being out on patrol. I love Afghanistan. Feeling the earth beneath my feet and the heat on my skin. It makes me feel alive. Nothing worries me anymore, Quinn. I've got it sorted._"

The atmosphere suddenly felt more at ease. As if people finally understood that Santana was happy and loved the decision that she had made. _No regrets?_ Quinn had asked before she hugged Santana for the last time. _None. _She had replied beaming. _Back at you, _Santana asked. The response from Quinn had been the same, _None._

"_Anyway, if you're reading this it means they got me."_

Cries echoed freely within the basement. Quinn's heartfelt sobs and sniffs were amongst them. If only Quinn knew how proud the whole Glee club was of her. How brave they _knew_ she was for reading out such a personal letter and managing to hold it together more than anyone else in the room.

" _They get us to write these letters from the grave. Seems mad to think that I'll never see you again. I didn't want to write, but my Corporal said there would be a Santana size whole in your heart if I was killed._"

Puck uttered a muffled half hearted laugh. There was something darkly humorous about how Santana had written.

"_I don't want a hole in your heart Quinn. Your heart is far too good to have any hole in it._"

Rachel reached across Finn and took Quinn's left hand in her own. Using her right hand, the one holding the letter she wiped the tears from her eyes. She had to keep going. She must.

Quinn hesitated again but nobody seemed to mind, they understood that she must read at her own pace. Quinn's eyes scanned over the next paragraph and the words came flooding back to her. It was very personal. A secret almost. If it had come out it never would have been denied, but it was never purposely brought up as a topic of conversation. Quinn thought about skipping the paragraph but decided against it, no embarrassment or shame would be brought to her.

There never was a penalty for being honest.

"_I'll never forget that night at the hotel. The night we made love; for both the first and the last time."_

Silence.

A few head turned to Brittany's direction.

"_It was our night."_

More heads turned. Quinn couldn't understand why. It wasn't news, at least not to Brittany.

"I knew," she stated clearly, "Now if you don't mind, Quinn had something to say."

"_It was our night." _Quinn repeated as if trying to make the words and the memory last longer than it should.

"_And forever will be. Nothing and no one can ever take that away from you, so treasure it. Treasure it forever, because I certainly will. To the grave I will take the knowledge that I have truly loved and lost and had a blast of a time right until the end_."

The further Quinn read on the fewer tears fell. They dried and ceased until there were no more. Instead it was emptiness that filled the room and every heart that occupied it. Before reading the next line Quinn cleared her throat. She read slightly louder than before. Bolder even.

"_Anyway, let's hope I die gallantly_."

A murmur of chuckles crammed the void of quiet. Every single person sitting in Rachel's basement imagined Santana saying those exact words in her sarcastic yet most heartfelt manner. It made them feel closer to her. Suddenly all was not lost. A life had been lost of course, but not hope and happiness. It was a start of a new beginning, and although sad, they were supposed to be at a celebration after all.

"_Let's hope they've spooned me into a body bag after doing something heroic. It's funny to think that the thing that made me into some sort of decent human being has been the death of me. But it's better this way isn't it? Does that make any sense? It is better to have done something, been someone..."_

Quinn's voice died away, not deliberately, she merely mimicked the tone of the letter. Sadness filled her heart. She could tell how hard it must have been for Santana to write such a personal letter. How hard it must have been to convey emotions she didn't know how to feel and which may not ever be needed. How hard it must have been to write to the people you love about your inevitable death.

Quinn sighed. She crossed her legs before continuing. Carefully laying the letter to rest on her legs she reached to either side of her and held tightly onto both Finn and Brittany's hand. Finn then gripped Rachel's and in turn she held Kurt's. Soon enough everybody was sitting in a deranged sort of circle holding one another. Knowing that everybody else was sharing her pain, not to the same extent, but even a quarter of the extent, was somewhat eerily comforting to her.

"_I could go on forever talking about how I'll love and miss everyone but what's the point? Life is too short, I know that now."_

The glee club hung their heads in unison as if all sharing the same tragic thoughts.

"_Although I never said it enough and never showed anyone enough, everyone knows what I think of them. Every harsh word I ever said was out of anger and frustration, and I'm sorry. I hope that's enough. I hope you understand that. I know you've all felt the same at some point. So I'll finish with this, I love each and every one of you_."

Dry eyes began to brim with tears again. They all could sense the end drawing nearer and nearer. None of them wanted it to be over; they didn't want to hear the last of Santana's words, but they knew it had to be for it was already over. Santana had already gone.

"_Up high in the sky, is a star, shining so brightly and swelling with pride, watching over you all, until one day we'll meet again."_

Quinn wanted to cry. She stopped reading and waited for the tears to come. She knew they wanted to fall. She could feel the build up stinging in the back of her eyes, but nothing happened. The only thing that happened was the complete opposite of what she had expected. She was smiling. A grin began to creep across her face. She tried to contain it, hide it. But it just couldn't be helped. She was happy for the first time since reading the letter three days previously. Nobody could hold that against her. Nobody should. Yes Santana was gone, yes it was sad but she'd made the effort to say goodbye, and to say goodbye properly and that was the most important thing to Quinn because she hadn't been forgotten.

The letter was addressed to her. Written about her. Written for her. All the times that Quinn blamed herself for Santana wanting to leave… Quinn had never been forgotten.

A few uneasy glances were shot in Quinn's direction. She apologised quickly.

"Don't be," Kurt replied with a reassuring smile, "People cope differently."

Quinn nodded.

"It's the end isn't it?" Blaine asked already knowing the answer.

She nodded again.

The whole room took a deep breath.

"Ready?"Quinn enquired.

"Yes," several people said at once, whilst those who didn't speak nodded.

Quinn opened her mouth to speak but Brittany got there first.

"Sorry," she hurried blushing at her poor timing, "It's just…can you read the last part again please. I…I don't want it to be over. Not just yet," she finished timidly, embarrassed at her honesty.

Quinn smile encouragingly, "Of course," she replied.

"_Up high in the sky, is a star, shining so brightly and swelling with pride, watching over you all, until one day we'll meet again. I love you Quinn, tell Brittany that I love her too."_

Quinn paused trying to drag out the inevitable, but it was no use.

"_Love Santana," _she finished her voice fading away as the last syllable graced her lips.

For the umpteenth time that afternoon silence hung in the air piercing the atmosphere like a stalactite hanging from the roof of a cave. Nobody knew who should speak first or whether anyone should speak at all. After a few minutes of soundless debating Rachel spoke.

"I'm sorry. You should have told us," she said, "We could have cancelled the party. Instead we…"

But Quinn cut Rachel off smiling, "No, don't be sorry. Nobody need be sorry for anything. No one is at fault. I wanted the party, that's why I didn't mention it," Quinn admitted.

"But why?" Blaine asked, voicing everyone else's question.

"Because it had been planned for months and I hope that the letter wasn't true. When it turned out it was I had an idea. Santana hasn't gone, she'll always be here. And she's here now, maybe not in person but in spirit and in mind. It's still her party. It'll be the party we will remember her by. Today is her day," Quinn smiled, a stray tear streaming down her cheek before falling from her chin.

"That's beautiful," Mercedes exclaimed quietly.

"Yeah, it is," both Artie and Puck said in unison.

* * *

The party continued as planned not long after Quinn had finished reading the letter. She didn't feel like talking much and with music blaring out from a variety of speakers and Rachel singing somewhat half hearted on the karaoke Quinn had the perfect excuse not to. She danced, and sung and remembered Santana in a way that she would never remember anyone else. Sadness consumed her to the extent of feeling numb but forcing a brave face made things seem better and easier. If she had spent the day moping around after cancelling the party she would have looked back and thought it had been a waste of time. Sulking didn't make anyone feel better. But now she could look back and think that life is worth living and you only have one chance. So make it matter. Make it count.

Half way through the party Blaine approached Quinn with Finn not far behind him. He had to shout for Quinn to hear but she didn't mind. She'd glad nobody else but Finn heard what he said.

"That part about you and Santana at the hotel, you didn't have to read it you know!" he yelled over the music.

"I wanted to!" she replied, also yelling.

"It was really brave of you!" Finn explained as he pulled her into a hug.

"Were you in love with her?" Blaine asked loudly.

Quinn was rather taken aback by the questioning. Finn pulled out of the hug and gave Blaine a warning look. He looked rather apologetic and shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry I shouldn't have asked!"

Quinn shook her head vigorously, "No!" she bellowed, "It's fine."

As soon as Finn realised that Quinn was okay with the question was just as eager as Blaine to know the answer. Quinn seemed somewhat reluctant to answer. As if reading her mind Finn spoke again.

"It'll go no further. Promise!"

Quinn nodded smiling.

"So?" Blaine yelled impatiently a slight smirk on his lips.

Her smile grew to a shy grin, "I always will be."

And with that she walked away leaving Finn and Blaine in awe of her honesty giving one another a look as if to say, _we'll never speak a word of this to anyone._ As Quinn walked away she felt for the letter in her pocket. She reached the bottom of the basement stairs and began to ascend unfolding the piece of paper again. This time she didn't read it though, instead she flipped it over to read a scrawl barely legible on the back of the letter.

Her lungs filled with air, her eyes with tears and her heart with love and pride.

"_Letting someone die is the most selfless act of love. From the bottom of my heart. Thank-you."_

* * *

**Reviews would be brilliant. I love this story to pieces and I'd love to know what you thought of it! Please let me know, good bad or otherwise, any feedback would be great! Thanks (:**


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